Dan escorted her to the elevator, then returned to Maisie and sat down beside her. Said she, coolly:
“Well, Dan, did Tamea propose to you tonight?”
On the instant he was irritated. He scowled at Maisie who, disdaining an answer, reached over on his left shoulder and carefully brushed away a very noticeable white patch on the blue cloth of his coat.
“I’ve told Tamea several times not to use so much powder,” she complained.
Dan was aware that he was flushing very noticeably. When Maisie spoke again the flush deepened.
“Aren’t you too old for that sort of thing—with that sort of semi-developed girl, Dan?”
He knew that Maisie, coming downstairs for some purpose earlier in the evening and learning from her aunt that he and Tamea had strolled away together, had decided to sit where she could keep watch over both entrances and await their return. What business had she spying upon them? He was distinctly irritated.
“I must confess, Maisie, I do not relish——” he began, but Maisie interrupted him.
“Oh, I dare say you’re thinking I’m an old snooper and that this is none of my business. I’d be prepared to admit that if you had not asked me to look after the child here. If you wish to have yourselves talked about, why then, spooning around the hotel grounds until twelve-thirty o’clock is a very good way.”
“Tamea is perfectly safe with me,” he defended, “and you ought to know it.”